


Gospel for the Wicked

by NightOwlCC



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anorexia, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood and Torture, Character Death, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, God Complex, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Misogyny, Obsessive Behavior, Off-screen Relationship(s), One-Sided Relationship, Romance, Schizophrenia, Undecided Relationship(s), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightOwlCC/pseuds/NightOwlCC
Summary: "I don't care if he's evil, as long as he's good to me." Glory, luxury and adoration go hand in hand with murder, psychopathy and world domination, as two apparently perfect families are rotting from the inside. Following stereotypes and breaking them enough to become realistic, this story picks on many of the modern society's flaws, highlighting bad behavior through negative examples and the consequences that follow.Set 2 years before the canon events, Light is hearing a voice in his mind, denying some past emotional trauma, while Caterina judges her mother's past mistakes and suspects her butler of hidden interests. What follows is a long row of hot make-out sessions, distorted perceptions about others, betrayals, and the blurring of the fine lines between sanity and insanity, between love and lust, and between good and evil. The two form a controversial couple, as they grow and mature through the series.First published in 2015, the story is still ongoing. Originally, it's been posted on FanFiction.Net, and more recently on Wattpad, under the same name. Proofread by AbandonedSock on FanFiction.NetWARNING: age 16+May be triggering for readers with traumatic experiences.





	1. Prologue - 1PM

One of the busiest cities in the world is slowly waking up. It's a beautiful morning in early spring and the sun is about to rise. Soon, cars will be blocking the streets, people will be rushing on the sidewalks, and the general murmur will cover the sound of hell's bells.

~*~

A flight from Milan, Italy landed in Tokyo, Japan. The time was 1 pm. The sun was shining in a beautiful early spring day. Cherry trees were just about to bloom. The sky was clear. The scent of freshly grounded coffee, newly printed books and latex filled the air. A few steps away, chocolate and fresh-baked bread.

 

A group of four had just arrived to their new home. The youngest and definitely the center of everyone's attention was a fourteen-year-old teenager rocking a pair of loosely laced boots, ripped, washed-out skinny jeans, a loose, white, sleeveless T-shirt and a black leather jacket carelessly thrown over her shoulders. Her left wrist was dressed in several bracelets of black leather with silver beads and charms. A soft clinking of bells followed her every move. The upper sections of her hair were thrown into a messy half-bun, leaving a few bangs to frame her round sunglasses. Her skinny figure was starting to show signs of normal development, especially around the chest.

The father walked a step behind her. He was dominating the group with his tall stature and well-built body. Pitch black hair was tied back into a sleek ponytail. His beard has been recently shaved. His white shirt was contrasting with a dark brown suit jacket and black dress pants. Shiny shoes reflected the sunlight. Black eyes stayed on his daughter at all times. As soon as he stopped, his wife and daughter turned to see why.

The woman was considerably younger and looked rather like the girl's sister. Her summery platforms made her stand a few centimeters taller than her partner. White flares were matched with a flowery blouse in warm pastels. A white blazer with a single golden detail was left unbuttoned. On her right wrist, a golden watch was ticking quietly between diamonds. Her left ring and middle finger were decorated with gold and white diamonds. Fake nails brushed back bleached locks from her face. Blonde hair covered a hint of auburn roots. Tall cheekbones were highlighted and contoured, thin lips pursed in impatience. Cold green eyes stopped on the figure of the other. After a moment, she sighed and continued walking.

A slender man in his seventies took the luggage of the family. His white hair still kept a hint of chestnut, his face was small and edgy and his nose resembled a hawk's beak. A gray mustache hid thin lips rolled towards the inside of his mouth. His chin was small and pointy. His shoulders tended to lean forward. The black suit he wore contrasted with his white shirt, hair, and skin. A black tie seemed to be strangling his thin neck.

Following her mother, the teenager began walking towards the car. A man in his thirties opened the door for the two females while the leader was following close behind. The butler was helped by the driver to put the luggage in the back of the car.

"Heavens, this is boring..." the woman complained. She rolled her eyes.

"Tiring, rather. Japan looks very different from home." her daughter replied. Since they had left the airport, her eyes had been glued to the car's window. She observed the people, the streets, what they were wearing and how they behaved - as much as it was possible from a fast drive through Tokyo.

"Exactly," she approved. "Driver? How long?" The woman had an air of superiority.

"Ten minutes, signora. Fifteen at most." The man was used to this kind of behavior. He had been paid to fly to Tokyo a week early. For the past two years, he had been the leader's right hand in everything related to family.

"Ah, good!" she exclaimed.

The father and the daughter had fallen silent. Both of them seemed lost in thought. He was born to a Chinese prostitute and abandoned. His adoptive family had raised him as their only child for twenty years. Only days before his 20th birthday, a woman had come to their door holding a newborn baby and claiming it belonged to his father. Enraged, he took a knife and stabbed his adoptive father to death. After that, he had disappeared. Years later, he had taken the new name of Amadeo "the love of God", the only one who he could trust to keep his darkest secret.

Soon, the car stopped in front of a penthouse. As usual, the driver opened the door and helped the woman out. The girl refused him by raising her hand. Her mother was checking her puffy eyes and spoiled makeup in a pocket-size mirror.

"This is unimportant, Anastasia." her husband sighed.

"Oh, darling, but I want to look good for you~" she purred. The woman leaned with both of her hands on his shoulder. Her partner paid no attention.

The butler, helped by the driver out of respect, was going forward to inspect the apartment and leave the luggage.

"Rosa, my dear, why don't you go choose your room and look around?" The mother tried to shoo away the girl.

"Yes, fine. I've told you, say what you mean straightly. Stop beating around the bush." Her answer was sharp, but not hurtful. "Padre?" Her tone had changed slightly. The parent could sense the respect she had for him without noticing any sort of weakness or indecision.

"Caterina?" he asked patiently. It was rare for the girl to address him directly in front of Anastasia.

"Please dine with me this week. I know your schedule is tight, but I ask of you to make time for me one evening."

"Very well."

Caterina was the only person who could address him fearlessly. She had no reason to hesitate in stating her requests. Not even the man's wife dared ask something of him on that confident tone.

Anastasia was jealous, but could very well understand this fight had been lost from the beginning. The only possible relationship between a seventeen-year-old rebel sneaking out the bedroom window and a forty-year-old nightclub owner could be a financial one where she sold her body for money, clothes, drinks, and cigarettes. The man was of the lonely and broken variety, from what Anastasia remembered. He was calm and docile as long as he was in control and sober. When drunk though, he turned into a completely different person. In fact, there was a special interdiction order for alcohol of any kind wherever they went, regardless of the time they were going to spend there.

The bleached-blonde followed a step behind as the man imposed his domination over her. For fourteen years he had not tasted a single drop of alcohol. He had quit smoking and invested all of his savings into some profitable business of which Anastasia knew too little and Caterina was completely uninterested.


	2. I - Accents

Whenever possible, which meant most of the time, her father took care that their apartment had three bedrooms. Caterina was not close to her mother and only saw her around the house by accident or when one of the two was sick. Also, from time to time, they went to private parties and dined with important people Caterina never really knew. Her father had tried to explain a few things to her, but she clearly stated that the matter did not interest her. Her father simply assumed she was still too young. His patience seemed infinite with her.

That morning, as usual, Caterina ordered breakfast in her room and refused to keep her mother company. She was not 'in the mood' for her mother's cheap talk about celebrities, fashion scandals, or shopping. The girl preferred action over words and was one of the worst clients one could ever see in their nightmares.

After a good night's sleep and a refreshing shower, the girl announced to her mother that she was going out. She wanted to see the people and the shops. Caterina made quite a big deal of fitting into the general picture, while also showing her superior sense of fashion.

"Rosa...?" her mother attempted. "Rosa, please. I wanted Vincent to go with me today. Perhaps we could go together around town?"

"I'm sorry, my mind is still rather tired. I would like to take some time on my own."

The more she grew, the more her precious Rosa reminded Anastasia of her husband... or partner, or financial supporter, because that's how she saw him. They were indeed married for fourteen years, but the woman felt like a bother most of the time. In her own way, she had matured enough to understand the man had most likely never cared for her on a romantic level. It was one reason she had been trying to keep her body young, as a last attempt to fool herself he might have felt anything for her, even if it was just sexual attraction. She wanted to be more than the woman walking beside him on an airport or sitting on his left side at parties.

With a sigh, the woman returned to her bedroom and laid on the king sized bed that she shared with the cool air of the room. She had done this so many times, crying was no longer of use. Sometimes she wondered if she had any tears left. With the passing of time, she found herself terrified to come to the same conclusion more and more often: she was dead to them. Anastasia had died in the eyes of the Dragon the second she gave birth.

Without any other explanations, the teenager put on her mirrored sunglasses and her black backpack. She was already dressed in a dark green blouse and black jeans, paired with a different set of bracelets and black sandals. Anastasia has been trying anything, including buying those silver necklaces with different charms, either on a simple chain or a black string of leather, but it seemed Caterina preferred those she bought herself. This time she had chosen a minimalist inverted triangle with a single circle in the middle fitting perfectly in the v shape of the collar.

For the next four hours, poor old Vincent with his sharp eyes and severe look has been following Caterina from one shop to another. He didn't have to carry more than two light bags though. Caterina was very picky - and very straightforward. Whenever a shop assistant offered to help, she quickly shooed them away with a brutally cold "It's ugly", "It's horrible", "I wouldn't wear that if you paid me," to the point she was driving the shop assistants insane.

"Signorina, may I suggest you take a break for lunch?"

Caterina had started to suspect her butler's respect was fake a little while back, but she had no proof to support her accusations. Of course, a word would have been enough for her father to have gotten rid of him, but according to his values, it was not moral to accuse someone without evidence.

"Yes, I believe we should..." she mumbled after a moment. For whatever reason, she felt strange... as if followed by a very insistent pair of eyes. "Vincent. We will return to the apartment for lunch." All of a sudden, she turned on her heels and almost bumped into another teenager. He seemed roughly the same age, though in more formal attire. He was wearing a brown suit and a white shirt. "Oh-"

"Signorina, is everything alright?" Vincent tried, but both ignored him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I hope you are not hurt...?" he asked with a wide and genuine smile. He was sure these two were tourists, so he addressed the girl in English.

"Should I call the guards, signorina?" the butler continued.

Caterina straightened her back and raised her hand. The meant that Vincent should stop worrying pointlessly and shut up.

"I am alright. I apologize, I... wasn't looking." She made a gesture with her hand as if shooing away some insect bugging her and quickly shook her head with a smile. Caterina looked at him well. There was something familiar about him - not his face, but perhaps his posture. He had something, some detail she couldn't name that reminded her of someone. She instantly noticed his accent, though his English was good.

"I apologize, are you tourists?" The teenager liked to make sure of his assumptions. 'Perhaps' was not a word he frequently used. Also, he had listened to the way the other two were speaking - fast, fluid, almost singing the words together. Speed in speech was characteristic to the five Latin languages, while the fluidity and melodic sound of it narrowed it down to one. They were most likely Italian.

"Not exactly." Much to the butler's displeasure, Caterina seemed to be accepting the company of this random Japanese stranger. The girl lifted her sunglasses on the top of her head. Green eyes stared into brown ones. With an Italian mother and a Chinese-blooded father, her face was at least... interesting. She had the tall cheekbones and thin, straight nose of her mother, but the small forehead and thick brows of her father. Although not as doe-like as her mother's, her eyes were rather wide for an Asian and made her look a bit exotic in the sea of small black eyes. "I guess it's obvious we're not Japanese, isn't it?"

"It was actually the accent." he laughed lightly as the girl chuckled. The teenager noticed her traits immediately and tried to remember the racial stereotypes of the world. Again, he thought of Italy. All the while, Vincent was frowning in impatience. How long was Caterina going to keep allowing her time to a stranger? "So you are not here to visit, then?"

"No. Rather, my father came here with business, so we are most probably going to stay here for at least a year."

Vincent was growing even tenser by the second. His bushy white brows frowned over his nose. Was it safe to give away this kind of information? Wouldn't it have been better to just play along and pretend they were tourists separated from the group?

"I see... Will you be starting school here in Tokyo this fall?"

"Most likely, yes. Hey, um, change of subject. Do you know any good restaurant around here?"

"But, signorina, your mother will be worried-"

"You can leave her a message or call her for me. She'll know not to wait for me." After that, the butler was faced with the hand once more.

The Japanese noticed some indifference when the elder man mentioned her mother. Was she also in Japan? Were her parents still together? She didn't seem so cold when she mentioned her father.

Sighing and frowning, he obeyed. In the meantime, the teenagers, though apparently very different, seemed to be getting along. Her sharpness seemed to be turning a bit dull as she was slowly letting her guard down. Vincent was surprised to hear her laugh as they talked unimportant nothings, like Japanese-Italian stereotypes, food, or pop culture out of which the old man could barely understand anything.

"Maybe I'm being indecent, and I apologize in advance, but is he your grandfather?"

"Stop apologizing every other word." she laughed. "I know it's polite and all, but not where I'm from. It's fine, really."

"I'll try, then." he chuckled.

"He's my butler." After that, she whispered something quickly under her breath which made the both of them laugh. Vincent could not make out any word from the noises he had managed to hear.

"You have a butler! I was convinced that job had disappeared." replied the young man who still needed to give his name. It seemed he could easily avoid whatever was whispered before.

"Not if you can afford it. So, are you from Tokyo?"

"Yes. I was born here and I'm still here, though I aim a little higher."

"Right. I've lived in Milan before, though I liked Florence better. Have you ever traveled abroad?" The teenager shook his head. "It's the only thing that gets me excited anymore. The world is so varied and so beautiful in the strangest ways, it never fails to amaze me. Some people ruin it... But aside from that, traveling is my favorite sport."

"Ruin it?"

"Yes. You know, when you're on vacation and someone steals your cards, or when you're sight-seeing and there are vandals destroying statues or historical buildings. Or when your plane is about to take off and someone gives an alert there might be a terrorist on board. That's scary."

"Has it happened to you?"

"Once. I was ten, but I remember it well."

"I don't doubt it. It's not something you can easily forget..."

"Yea... But enough of sad and scary memories!" she laughed as they entered a Japanese restaurant. "How about you explain the menu for me a little bit? After that, maybe you'll show me around, like you said."

With some smiles and chuckles, they translated the menu into English and ordered. All the while, Vincent has been eyeing the other teenager suspiciously. He stepped out of the restaurant for a few minutes to inform the lady of the house of the recent change of plans. She seemed to be taking it lightly, but as soon as she hang up, the mother began to cry. Her dear Rosa preferred the company of a stranger over that of her own mother.


	3. II – Rag Doll

After a few quick phone calls, the man returned to the apartment. He was surprised to only find Anastasia wiping her eyes of makeup. She was smiling brightly, even if her face had been stained by tears. He could not tell if it was genuine or as fake as her nails. The man wasn't very interested in reading her either.  
"Giuliano, you're home early."  
"Yes... Is Caterina here?" He had been the one to choose this name for her.  
"No. She left in the morning with Vincent and announced she will be eating somewhere in town."  
There were a few rules the man had never voiced, but Anastasia had learned. Among these, never ask unnecessary questions, always offer all the information she had on a subject and always make sure Rosa was not alone whenever she went out.  
Giuliano sat on the couch and threw his arms over the back. He sighed.  
"Should I bring you anything, dear? Or should I order something-"  
"No... Don't bother."  
Trying hard not to feel his lack of affection, the mother moved to sit on an armchair to his left. She curled her legs beside her and put her hands on her lap. The seat to his right was always reserved to Rosa.  
"You're bothered by something. Let's hear."  
Although surprised, Anastasia couldn't deny the accuracy of his observation.  
"Yes, that's true... My love, I am worried. Why are we so suddenly moving here, to a foreign country we've never even visited before? I know you've mentioned business for a reason, but I can't seem to figure it out. Are there some problems...?"  
The woman knew that directly asking what his business was could be a very bad idea. On the other hand, she had a very bad feeling about his sudden decision of moving to Japan. For a few moments, her husband seemed deep in thought.  
"I have caught rumors of employees being corrupted. I hate losing money pointlessly, you already know that. I am here to supervise the Asian wing of the company."  
He seemed to be in a good mood, so the woman continued.  
"It's such a strange country... I mean, different. It's the first time we see Asia, Rosa and I..."  
Because the man was from an adoptive family and he never really told her about his past, Anastasia was trying to avoid mentioning the continent most of the time. Though since they were in Japan, she figured it could be a good idea to carefully talk him into allowing himself a short vacation. Whatever his company was, it was eating up most of his time. Therefore, whenever he had a day partially free, he would choose to relax at home or sleep.  
"We are not tourists, Anastasia."  
"I am sorry. I just thought-"  
"You don't think. Go wash your face."  
With her head bowed, the woman went to the bathroom. In truth, her makeup was so messy it made her look like a raccoon. She wiped the paint off and washed her face. Why bother covering her dark circles and few acne scars when he didn't care to look at her more than ten seconds a day?  
His phone rang.  
"Yes." her husband answered. "The finest quality, I expect... Good. What did the examiner say?" After a short pause, Anastasia could imagine him grinning. "As expected. Be ready to ship it tomorrow. Make sure to be there on time."  
He hung up. Anastasia tried to sneak from behind the corner of the hallway to her bedroom, only to be caught from around the neck by his strong hand. She froze. Like a hare blinded by a car's powerful lights, she was waiting in fear for the man's reaction.  
"Were you listening...?" he asked in a deep voice by her ear, sending cold chills of fear down her spine.  
"N-no-"  
"Don't lie to me!" he yelled. The man pressed her against the wall. "I will rip out your tongue next time you dare lie. Does my business interest you?! Does it?!" he screamed through gritted teeth.  
The woman stood still and silent, keeping her eyes closed. She trembled in his hand. Surprise washed over her when his grip loosened and he let her slide to the floor at his feet.  
"I am keeping this from you to protect you. Because this way, I can protect Caterina. Stop trying to pretend you have a brain! Shut up, smile, and enjoy your little magazine. That should be your worry, not what I am doing. It's what you've done all your life. Cover your face in paint, pretend you're still twenty and bathe in your superficial world. You know nothing but flashlights and plastic. You wanted to be a doll? Dolls have no brain. Dolls have no opinions or thoughts."  
When she opened her eyes, he had his back turned.  
"Do not push my hand again." he mumbled.  
As he gradually became calmer, she was starting to remember every time he had thrown her across the room like a rag doll. She remembered every angry hit that lent on her body. She remembered every time he had broken the furniture in his office, on the top floor of the club, either with his fists or with her body. Yet, he visited her in the hospital. When her family couldn't afford it, he paid for her treatment.  
What had just happened was her fault. It was what she deserved. No, it was less than what she deserved and the first time in fourteen years, he punished her. In a way, it seemed he was almost sorry for her.  
"Get up." he addressed her again, though he didn't turn to face her. "Your phone is ringing."  
He didn't sound angry anymore. For a moment, Anastasia forgot about the abuse and thought of how much she would have liked to hear him using that tone every day. He wasn't cold anymore...  
Confused, but smiling, she stood up. Vincent had called and he sounded rather worried.  
'Signora? Please pardon my call. I know you and the master have asked that I notify you immediately if the girl is in trouble. I have reasons to believe trouble will be on its way soon.'  
The Dragon could hear Vincent's voice at the other end of the line, though he could not understand the words. "What is it?" he questioned his pale wife.  
"Rosa... My Rosa! What happened? Vincent, you must tell us everything!" Her fingers tapped the button marked 'speaker'.  
'I have used the device given, master, and I found out that the young man your daughter has met only an hour ago is the elder son of the Police Chief Yagami Soichiro.'  
The man frowned. The Police must never be allowed anywhere near his family or his life - it would have been too risky.  
'Master...?'  
"How is my daughter involved with the police chief's son?"  
'They have met accidentally on the street, master. We are now at a Japanese restaurant. They have been talking for the past hour about cultural differences, literature, music, and I believe, some pop culture. I apologize, sir, I could not understand some of what they were saying.'


	4. III - Uncomfortable

"I do not want my daughter anywhere near the police!" The man growled between gritted teeth.  
"But darling, what could possibly happen? They have no way of knowing who Rosa is."  
The Dragon pushed the woman off from his shoulder and towards the couch. Their butler, who was currently assigned to look after Caterina, had given him some horrible news. The man was pacing the room.  
"They won't take long to find out..." Tears filled her eyes, but she was holding back with all her might. "I can't afford that."  
At the restaurant, three hours had passed. Caterina had a general idea of Light, but not enough to know who he really was. On the other hand, Light was tempted to say he knew the girl, even if he had only heard unimportant memories and dates lacking in names and substance. As a first impression, they seemed to have two things in common - intelligence and boredom.  
Because of these attributes, the two managed to relax and let loose for a short while. However, there were still important details left uncovered.  
"Can we go now, signorina? Your Padre must be very worried by now." The old man insisted.  
"Yes, we can." She replied shortly. "Wait for me outside. Call the driver if you get bored."  
Vincent hid his anger with grace and made his way out of the restaurant. He considered the young lady of the house to be much too disrespectful and spoiled. More often than not, he felt humiliated to be spoken to in such way. The old man would have slapped her countless times for the public humiliation, but he knew such action would bring him not only a complete failure on a professional level, but also a possible death sentence.  
"Excuse me for my reaction," Light began with an amused smile, "but it is quite rare to see someone submissive to such..."  
"Humiliation?" she said the word he seemed to be avoiding. "Most will, for the right price."  
"I see. I have figured your financial situation is much better than that of the majority. May I ask about your family?" Of course, he did realize the question was a great risk -he had heard of the Mafia members and how they could order an execution for as much as the victim having witnessed something by accident- but he was willing to take it. By that time, he had noticed the girl seemed to be enjoying his company, so he decided to set his bet on that.  
"Yes, you may." she chuckled. "However, I may not answer."  
"Ah, I understand. You don't trust me with such personal information yet... Is that it?"  
"Yes, more or less. It all comes down to two things - money and trust. Either of these could take you far... but you have not enough of either at the moment."  
"At the moment." Light repeated her words exactly. "But perhaps in the near future..."  
He was interrupted by the butler returning to their table.  
"Is he here?" Caterina shortly addressed the old man, who simply nodded and bowed.  
"Caterina...!" the young man began, but was left wordless for a short moment. Should he ask if she wanted to see him again? Should he ask for her number? Was any of these necessary?  
"Yes...?" She stood up and stopped, not having turned her back on him yet.  
"I hope to see you again soon." he managed to say in a calm voice.  
"Perhaps." she replied with a smile before walking out with the white-haired man.  
In the car, Vincent took the passenger seat. Caterina was back to her serious self, sitting quietly in the back. The driver seemed to be the only one having a good day. He was quietly humming to a song on the radio and tapping the rhythm. When he noticed Caterina putting on her earphones, he turned his attention to the butler.  
"What happened, old man?" he asked, sounding quite amused.  
"Hmph! It does not interest you. Now keep your eyes on the road."  
"I could, sure. But I could very well crash into a wall, don't you think? The daughter might get out alive since she's in the back, but we won't."  
"You better not!"  
"Then answer me." the driver insisted on a slightly amused tone, as if they were having the most casual conversation.  
"You would never crash this car. The Dragon would kill you."  
"Oh, don't worry. I can kill us both before he does. We'll take your snobbery and my curiosity to the graves."  
"He will kill your family. You've heard of him, haven't you? Mindless fool! Slow down immediately!"  
As the driver was speeding down the road, the old man began to panic.  
"I'm an orphan. Is your memory failing already? My, that must be terrifying! We both know the boss doesn't like inefficient people."  
"Shut up..." He growled. "What happened today is none of your concern."  
"Ah, but I think it might be!"  
"If the Dragon finds out we had this conversation..."  
"No worries! She has her earphones on and there's no one else around. Convenient, right?"  
"Fine. She spoke to Yagami's son, that's it." The old man was finally giving in.  
"Yagami? And this is...?" The driver began as he parked the car.  
"That's already more than you should know. Stop the engine and let me off."  
"You? What about her?" he asked with a light chuckle.  
"I don't care about that spoiled brat. Just let me off before you kill us both!"  
"You really are a pain, huh...?"  
The old man rolled his eyes. Once the engine had been stopped, the doors unlocked automatically and the driver went to open the door for the girl. He bowed down to her as a pretext to listen closely... There was no buzzing coming from the girl's earphones. He smiled.  
As Caterina noticed this, he began to wonder if her suspicion of Vincent was shared by the driver. In that case, it would have been much easier to get rid of the old vermin. Their eyes met for a second, before Caterina allowed the butler to escort her to the apartment's door. She saw satisfaction on the driver's face.


	5. IV – Tea Party

A week had passed since the family had moved to Japan. Giuliano had fired almost half of the bank's employees, from supervisors to guards or janitors. A few cases had been reported all over the country of houses or blocks bursting into flames with people inside, both during the day and the night. Some of the victims that had been transported to the hospital had mysteriously suffered grave complications overnight.  
The police were gathering information from other countries where such incidents had happened before, but it seemed the phenomenon had appeared and disappeared by itself. Nobody could trace it to either a man or a group of men, but everybody suspected these had been ordered executions. Almost twenty bloodlines had died in less than a week, the number of deaths rising constantly.  
Caterina kept going out, mostly without her father's knowledge. The driver was the only one who knew when she left the hotel, but not even he could be sure where she went or why. Soon enough, the girl had Light's number and he had hers. She knew his father was working for the police, that he had a younger sister and that his parents were still together. They kept discussing cultural differences, past experiences, and the news. Light seemed particularly interested in the series of inexplicable deaths and the fires bursting all over Japan and he suspected that Caterina knew something more than the general public, but he couldn't make her admit anything.  
Anastasia was the only one making some favorable progress. She was working on a new fashion line, taking the project very seriously – it was her only distraction from a husband who had never loved her and a daughter who had never recognized her as a mother. Day and night, the blonde kept sketching, imagining, and trying different combinations of patterns, colors and textures. She had a mannequin in her room which she used to put together the pieces of her new collection.  
On her first Friday in town, she had a young model coming to see her. Giuliano had agreed to this almost mindlessly, she remembered. He was probably too busy to care about a depressive wife, so he had simply mumbled a positive answer before going back to discussing only he knew what.  
Vincent knocked on the door of the lady's door.  
"Yes, Vincent?" she asked. The butler was the only one who could bother her. Caterina was somewhere in town and her husband was probably not going to be there for the day.  
"Signora, signorina Amane is here." He said from the doorway.  
"Oh, wonderful! I will be there in a minute."  
The man closed the door and went into the living room to announce the other blonde.  
"If you could please wait for a minute. Signora Amadeo will be here in a moment."  
"Great!" The girl giggled as her small pigtails jumped up and down on the sides of her head.  
"Would you like anything in the mean time?"  
"Uhm…" The girl looked up at her own reflection on the mirrored ceiling and pointed a long index finger on her chin. "Some tea would be great, or juice, but please make sure it's sugar-free! Misa-Misa doesn't want to get fat."  
"Of course, signorina."  
The old man bowed his head, slightly amused by the girl. The fact that she spoke in third person was enough for the butler to label her as dumb.  
In another moment or two, Anastasia walked into the large living room in a maxi dress in pastel pinks and yellows, better fit for a day at the beach rather than talking business. She smiled widely as her guest stood up and they kissed one another's cheeks without really touching skin.  
"My, you are even more charming in person, my dear!" The woman said before taking a seat on the couch.  
Misa chuckled a vain 'Thank you' before taking her seat on the armchair that was usually reserved for Caterina. She crossed her legs, exposed in all their teenage glory by a very short black and red skirt with golden skulls for buttons and knee high socks. She had a black button-up shirt which would have been strangely decent for her if it wasn't half transparent.  
"How are you today?" The woman began the conversation as Vincent set the tea on the small glass table between them and poured two cups, one for his mistress and one for her guest.  
"Misa is doing well, thank you. Misa is excited!" She giggled.  
"Oh, that's great! Because I can't wait to start working with you!"  
"Really?"  
Anastasia nodded as Misa clapped her hands together.  
"I can show you some sketches of my new fashion collection, if you'd like."  
"Sure!"  
"But first, I will need to talk a few things with you. You see, Misa, I will need you to sign a contract. I will also need your parents to sign an agreement, both of them. I hope it's not a problem, is it?"  
The girl shook her head. "Not at all! Mother and Father will be glad! It's Misa's first job for a magazine!"  
"Really?" Anastasia smiled brightly. "Don't worry about it, then! You will learn everything you need to know with time. You're just so adorable, I think everyone will be glad to help you."  
"Thank you~!" She half squealed, half sang.  
Just then, the front door opened then closed with a click.  
"I'm home…!" Came Caterina's bored voice as she announced her presence. She left her shoes in the hall before stepping inside.  
"Rosa, my dear, we are over here! Please come say hi to our guest." Her mother called.  
Out of curiosity, the girl stepped into the room and her eyes stopped on Misa.  
"Oh, I didn't know you invited a loli."  
Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and disrespect, but neither of the blondes seemed to notice.  
"Misa loves the dark Lolita fashion!" She gladly claimed about herself.  
"Hm, yeah, I noticed…" Caterina mentioned. "Also, that's my seat."  
"Rosa, please be nice to our-" Her mother tried to intervene.  
"Underage prostitute?" The auburn-haired girl asked ironically.  
Misa gasped. "Me?! Misa does no such thing!"  
"But you look like one. Now get your ass off my seat."  
"Rosa! You could at least try to be nice to her since you will be working together."  
"What?!" Both girls asked at once, Caterina feeling insulted and Misa scared.  
"Me?! Working with a retarded Lolita who talks in third person? Oh, hell no."  
"You take that back!" Misa yelled while jumping to her feet.  
"Do you even know what 'Lolita' means?" Caterina continued. "If you're going to sport a certain look, know the message you're sending."  
"Misa will dress in whatever fashion Misa wants!"  
"Oh, please! Sex shops don't sell fashion, sweetheart."  
Anastasia stood up and dragged her daughter outside the room by her hand. Misa remained alone, huffing and puffing, pouting like a five-years-old.  
"Rosa, you are embarrassing me!" Her mother complained as her daughter brushed her hand off.  
"You will let go of me this instant. Does Padre know who your new model is? Does he know the Amadeo name will be associated with a Lolita?"  
The blonde turned pale at the mention of her husband. "He agreed to this…"  
"Really? Or did he agree to have a model as a guest to entertain you?"  
Anastasia bit her lip like a teenager caught sneaking out the back door. Caterina stood straight, claiming her superior statute with a cold stare and pretending to be waiting for an answer both of them knew was not going to come.  
"Just because you were one, doesn't mean the world needs to know about it."  
Anastasia tried to slap her daughter, but her hand had been stopped by that of Caterina. The mother had tears in her eyes and her lower lip was trembling.  
"Don't think math is too much for me. You were seventeen when you gave birth. Fifteen years ago, that was unacceptable."  
"You have no right to judge me! I am your mother!"  
"I never said you weren't, it's why I have every right to judge you. Do whatever you want, but I will not have my image stained by you or any of your skimpy friends. I aim for the top and I will not have you dragging me down."  
Anastasia gasped in shock, feeling her heart break even more as her own daughter was calling her out for her past mistakes.  
"Even if you don't agree to my past, I had given you a better life this way! How many girls your age have half of what you do?! You could at least be grateful for that!"  
"Oh, I am… I am grateful to Padre for giving me everything I deserve as his one and only heir. All I'm saying is that I don't want his name stained by a loli."  
"You are in no position of giving me any kind of permission."  
"…Right. We'll see about that."  
Caterina turned on her heels as her mother tried her hardest to keep from crying. What was so wrong in having a Lolita model? The world of fashion was one of beauty, not morals… right? And besides, Misa was cute. She couldn't possibly be a Lolita in anything else but fashion.  
Counting her breaths to keep calm and blinking away a few tears, Anastasia returned to Misa, who had been waiting there for the past five minutes or more.  
"I apologize, my dear. I'm afraid my daughter can be a little… acidic."  
"It's alright… Misa won't have to work with her, right?"  
"…No, you won't." The woman answered after a moment of thought. "Now, where were we…?"


	6. V – Fireworks

In one of the many storehouses, a man was tied to a metal pole supporting the ceiling. His breathing was loud and painful, his left arm bent at an unnatural angle and swollen. He was shirtless, covered in bruises and cuts, but none serious enough to threaten his life. His hands were turning a dark shade of purple because of the thin metal cords tied too tight for his blood to flow. He was covered in sweat, blood, and his own spit. One of his eyes was dark and his lips and chin were covered in dried blood. The man, in his late forties and with a well-built body, was enjoying a break from the torture as his head was spinning around the border of consciousness.  
Outside, a black car stopped and the Dragon stepped out. He was his own driver this time, not willing to risk having someone else find out about this.  
"Master."  
A Chinese man, standing rather tall for an Asian, with his hair braided behind him and dressed in black from his neck to his heels bowed down in front of the leader. His gloves were torn around the knuckles and his hands were covered in blood, though it was not his.  
"Any progress?" the Dragon asked as he approached the storehouse.  
"None, master."  
"Is he alive?"  
"Yes, master."  
The Dragon entered the building and two guards bowed as well. They were covered from head to toe, only their eyes being visible. One guard had small black eyes, the other had large, baby blue eyes.  
The latter asked for permission to speak first.  
"Master."  
"Talk."  
"The hostage had begged for death. He had refused water. No information had been revealed."  
The man in charge to torture the hostage was following two steps behind the Dragon as he slowly stepped closer. Indeed, his employee looked pathetic.  
"Wake him," came the order as the torturer hurried to do so. He splashed the half-dead hostage with a bucket of cold water, causing him to wake gasping and trembling.  
The hostage looked at the new man standing in front of him with the one eye he could open and tried to recognize the person through the blur.  
"Who paid you?" the Dragon asked, but the hostage remained silent.  
The Dragon took out his gun and shot the hostage in his feet, aiming each toe one by one as the victim screamed in agony.  
"I will ask you again… Who paid you?"  
"…I don't know… what are you… talking about…" the other mumbled between gasps.  
"I am talking about the code of one of the safes, the one that had been emptied last month."  
The other shook his head once again. He had been a new employee, appointed to guard one of the three largest safes of the bank in Tokyo owned by the Dragon. Less than two weeks after him being hired, the money, gold, diamonds, jewelry and artworks in the safe had mysteriously disappeared, without the alarm being set off.  
"You should know I hate vermin."  
The Dragon threw the bottle of sake from which the torturer had been drinking. It crushed against the hostage's legs, the broken shards cutting into his flesh as the alcoholic drink burned his wounds.  
"Should I bring the gasoline, master?" The torturer offered as the victim froze in terror.  
"Yes. Wait for my command." The Dragon answered calmly.  
The guards looked at each other. The blue-eyed one looked rather confused and perhaps a little scared as well, his colleague couldn't be sure. It was the first time the blue-eyed had been assigned to guard a hostage while he was being tortured. He hadn't enjoyed it at all and his newest colleague, whose identity he had yet to learn, could tell he was not the best fit for this kind of job. He felt pity.  
The Dragon sighed. "Why are you doing this?" He approached the terrified hostage and clasped his face with one gloved hand. "You are going to die, anyway. You could at least spare me the effort of torturing you."  
The man's jaws began to hurt more and more as the Dragon applied even more force. He felt the blood coming from where some of his teeth had been, before the torturer had punched them out.  
"Here are your options… One, you start talking and you earn yourself the death you've been begging for… or two, I'll set you on fire."  
"…Kill… Kill me…"  
The Dragon slammed the victim's head against the metal pole behind him, then stepped back. The torturer poured gasoline all over the man's pants and feet, leaving a puddle around him.  
Just then, the Dragon's phone began to ring. He checked the number and smirked.  
"Think about it." He warned the hostage as he alone walked out of the storehouse. The guards bowed again, the blue-eyed man was surprised the hostage was not yet dead.  
A few meters away, the man answered the call.  
"Yes, love?" This was his way of saying he could talk to her for as long as she wished, that he was not in the middle of anything important. It was also a way of avoiding names.  
'Padre…' the voice of his daughter came from the phone, sounding anything but pleased. It was rare, considering the tight bond between them. 'I have some interesting news for you which I think will interest you, just like they interest me. Is it alright if we dine together tonight?'  
"I will see what can be done, my dear. What happened?"  
'Something I doubt you would agree with. I also have some questions for you, Padre. I believe I am old enough now.'  
"Questions about…?"  
'You. And me. I hope you haven't forgotten, Padre.'  
"I have not. We will dine this evening, then."  
'Thank you, Padre. Could you give me an hour, please?'  
"After I am done with something, I will make reservations and announce you."  
'Please text me, then. I want to watch a movie.'  
"Very well. Take care."  
'You too. I love you.'  
"And I, you." With that, the man ended the call and casually walked back inside the store house.  
The hostage was trembling in terror and agony with his legs crushed and bleeding. The torturer held a bloody pipe in his hand. When the Dragon threw him a questioning look, the torturer bowed his head.  
"He had insulted you, master."  
"Ah, I see… Playing with fire, aren't we?" He asked as he approached the hostage.  
"Y-your empire is g-going d-down!" The man stuttered.  
"Is that so…? And who is to blame for that?" the Dragon asked. "Guards!"  
A few seconds later, the two guards stood straight in front of him.  
"Do you smoke?" He casually asked the blue-eyed guard.  
"No, Sir!"  
"Do you?" He asked the black-eyed guard next.  
"Yes, master!"  
"Give me a cigarette."  
The guard quickly took out a package and gave his master the last cigarette. In return, the leader took out $100 and put them in the empty cigarettes package. The guard froze in shock, his black eyes going from the money to his employer and back again.  
"Buy yourself something better. These stink."  
"Y-yes, master!"  
"You can go."  
The Dragon sounded bored, but that was only the mask he was wearing. The two made their way to the only entrance of the storehouse that hadn't been barricaded with boxes.  
The hostage watched hopelessly as the Dragon forced the cigarette into his mouth until the butt was reaching the entrance of his throat.  
"I will burn your tongue before I watch you fry. Who paid you?"  
"…Wease… Wease, gno… Uss…"  
Seeing some progress, the Dragon slapped the back of the hostage's head, sending the cigarette flying out of his mouth and into the puddle of piss and gasoline on the floor.  
"Say it again."  
"Ross… I-I don't know anything else. His name is Ross. Please, free me. Please. I swear I won't talk."  
"Just like you didn't talk now."  
The Dragon picked up the cigarette, punched the victim in the abdomen enough to get him gasping for air and put the cigarette into his mouth. He held his palm open and the torturer passed him a box of matches. Trembling, the hostage began to shake his head, crying in despair.  
The Dragon lit up the cigarette, which burned the inside of the traitor's mouth. He let the match fall in the puddle of gasoline, lighting up the man's body as he struggled in agony.  
"Tell the guards they may leave."  
The Dragon took out $1000 for each of the guards and sent the torturer to pay them and make sure they will be gone by the time the building would be on fire.  
When he was back, the Dragon shot the torturer's legs. Seeing his confused expression, he decided to explain.  
"You were useless."  
The next bullet went through the torturer's head, blowing his brains on the wall. With a pleased smirk on his face, the Dragon poured a second can of gasoline from one of the boxes 'til near the burning traitor, who was still alive and screaming.  
"Wait for your two daughters and wife before going to hell. Salute the devil for me."  
Smiling as if it was the most amusing joke he had ever heard, the Dragon left the storehouse, driving away and towards the city. A couple of minutes later, the storehouse exploded as the fire had reached the box filled with dynamite.


End file.
